The Once and Future King
by AragornofRedwall
Summary: This is my first of two alternate endings to Merlin Series 5. I pray it pleases.


Merlin Series Five Episode Thirteen:

_The Once and Future King_

_**A/N:**_ **Here is my own inadequate attempt to provide a magnificent story with the ending(s) it deserves.** **This is the first of two alternate endings I am writing for Merlin. It picks up about 15 minutes into episode 13 of series 5, where Gaius and Merlin are tending a wounded Arthur.**

Merlin sighed as he glanced over his shoulder. Poor Arthur. He turned grimly to Gaius.

"How long does he have?"

"At best, two days."

"Then there is no time to waste."

Merlin took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

"O drakon, e mala soi ftengometh tesd'hup anankes! Erkheo!"

He waited for minutes that seemed like ages. Then, with a rush of wind, Kilgarrah stood before him.

"You summoned me, young warlock?"

"Arthur has two days to live, and I must take him to the lake of Avalon. Can you carry us there?"

The Great Dragon smiled.

"With pleasure, young warlock."

"So you command dragons now, eh Merlin? Who would have thought?"

Merlin smiled.

"No one, I suppose. That was the point."

Arthur's face hardened.

"You lied to me all those years. Why?"

"You would have beheaded me if I had told you."

"I don't know what I would have done."

"And I didn't want to put you in that position."

Arthur's face turned thoughtful for a moment before he looked away.

It was nightfall by the time they reached the lake, and Arthur had long since fallen asleep. With a gentle tug, Merlin helped the King down, and lay him on his back.

"Thank you, Kilgarrah."

"Merlin, there is something you must know about the lake."

"What is that?"

"Even a power so great as it possesses cannot heal Arthur quickly. It will take centuries to heal his wound."

"Centuries?"

"Merlin, Arthur is not just a king. He is the Once and Future King. He will heal. And when he does, he shall return to save Albion in her time of greatest need."

"So who will tend him while he heals?"

"That remains to be seen, young warlock."

The Great Dragon bowed his head.

"It has been a privilege to have known you, young warlock. The story we have been a part of will live long in the minds of men."

With a rush of wind and the scent of smoke, the dragon flew high into the air, and disappeared over the tops of the trees. Merlin breathed a sigh of relief. Then, just as he was about to help Arthur into the coracle on the bank of the lake, a terrible roar filled the air, fire flashing across the skies. Aithusa had found Kilgarrah.

His heart in his throat, Merlin ran to Arthur.

"Come on. We've got to get you to the isle in the middle of the lake."

"Hello, Emrys."

Merlin felt himself leave the ground as Morgana flung him onto the muddy ground near the water's edge. As he tried desperately to pick himself up, he could almost hear the smirk in Morgana's voice.

"What a joy it is to see you Arthur. Look at you; not so tall and mighty now."

She knelt beside him. Carefully, cautiously, Merlin crept around to where Excalibur lay, abandoned on the ground.

"You may have won the battle, but you've lost the war. You're going to die by Mordred's hand."

A look of mocking false-pity came over the sorceress' tired face.

"Oh don't worry dear brother, I won't let you die alone. I will stay and watch over you -'til the wolves gorge themselves on your carcass and bathe in your blood!"

"No, I rather think you won't. I blame myself for what you've become, but this has to end."

Morgana turned slowly to face Merlin, Excalibur in his hand.

"I am a High Priestess. No mortal blade can kill me."

Merlin thrust the sword forward, impaling Morgana upon its blade.

"This is no mortal blade. Like yours, it was forged in a dragon's breath."

Morgana convulsed in agony, her face contorted in pain.

"Mercy, Emrys. I am a High Priestess. If I touch the water I will be healed instantly. Please-"

Merlin's already hard voice grew cold.

"Mercy? What do you know of mercy? You who have killed hundreds because you found it convenient? You who have manipulated and lied and hated your way across this land, leaving destruction in your wake? You whose bitterness has poisoned all of those around you? Tell me Morgana. Why should I spare you? What price could you pay for all you have done?"

"I – I am sorry for what I've done."

"But actions still have consequences, however much we regret them."

She lifted her eyes to meet his.

"Would you not ask for mercy, had our fates been reversed? Had I been Arthur's guardian and you his foe?"

"That does not mean I would deserve it, nor does it mean you would grant it."

"You loved me once."

"And you loved Arthur once."

The sorceress gritted her teeth as she sank lower upon the sword, the blade now the only thing keeping her above the ground. To the North, the fire had died away, replaced only by a grey haze that floated over the land like a cloud of mourning.

"And now you have caused the death of at least one of the only dragons left in this world. You have ripped families and friendships apart. Again I ask; after all you have done, why would I spare you?"

"Because _**I**_ ask it."

They both turned to where Arthur lay, weak and exhausted, upon the ground.

"Whatever she has done, she is still my kin. For my sake, Merlin, I beg you to spare her."

The warlock locked his eyes to those of his enemy.

"There is my reason."

He began walking forward, the cross-guard of the sword forcing Morgana onwards before him.

"But your salvation shall cost you dear."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that though you will heal instantly, Arthur will not be so fortunate. It will take him centuries to heal, Morgana. But he will heal. He is the Once and Future King. So, for all the centuries, all the years, all the days that he must wait upon the Isle of Avalon; for all the time Albion must wait for her king, you shall watch over him as his nurse; helping to repair some small part of all the damage you have done. That is my price."

With bleary eyes the half-dead Priestess gazed into the clear blue eyes of her Doom.

"Deal."

As they had talked, Merlin had continued walking slowly forward, backing Morgana towards the bank. Now, with one push, her forced her off of Excalibur and into the crystal blue water of the lake. She fell in with a splash, and disappeared beneath the rippling water.

Anxiously they watched, the King and the Sorcerer. And then, with a great bubbling and frothing, the water parted, and up she rose, the Sorceress restored. But not as she had been before. The colour had returned to her cheeks, which were no longer sunken and worn with bitterness and hate. Her raven hair, which had been matted to her bruised face, now hung about her shoulders in long strands. Her dress too, had changed. The garment, once tattered, dark, and blood-stained was now pure white, and a silver necklace hung around her neck.

"Forgive me, Emrys, for all I did to you."

Merlin inclined his head, but spoke not a word.

Morgana treaded softly along the water's edge, and knelt beside her brother. Now, with love, regret, and kindness in her voice, she took him in her arms.

"Forgive me, Arthur. Please."

The helpless King met her sorrowful gaze with his own blue eyes, and, with some effort, lifted his lips to kiss her forehead.

"I already have."

She rose to her feet and stood back, waiting to help Arthur into his coracle. With what little strength he could muster, the King summoned Merlin to his side.

"I now know everything you've done for me; for Camelot; for the kingdom you helped me build."

"You'd have done it without me."

Arthur did his best to laugh, though it came out more like a sigh.

"Maybe."

He took Merlin's hand in his weakened grip.

"I want to say something I've never said to you before."

Merlin's eyes clouded with tears.

"What?"

"Thank you."

Together Merlin and Morgana lifted Arthur into the boat. Merlin then made for the bank, and guided the boat forward with his hand, watching his King until the boat disappeared in the mists that covered the lake.

He looked down at Excalibur as it lay shining in the golden sunlight. With careful love he lifted the sword high above his head. Then, with all the strength he had, he flung it far into the lake. As it fell, an arm, white as porcelain, shot forth from the water and grasped the sword in its unyielding fist. Then, as quickly as it had arisen, the hand sank back into the water. Excalibur was safe. There the Sword would wait for the return of its King.

Merlin looked across the wooden table to his friend and mentor. Just as he had promised, Gaius had had his favourite meal ready when Merlin returned.

"We can rest easy in the knowledge that Gwen will succeed Arthur. She will rule most capably."

"For now. But what of all the centuries to come? Who will guard Camelot until Arthur's return?"

"_And," _he thought, _"what shall I do 'til he returns?"_

Gaius placed his bowl upon the table, and refilled Merlin's cup.

"The Queen called me to her chamber today. She is with child."

Merlin's face brightened.

"_That's both questions answered."_

_**Fin **_

_**A/N: **_**Well, there it is. That's my adaptation of the tragic ending given in the Arthur legends. Next up in the works is the ending I suspect we all prefer:**

**The Happy One. **


End file.
